by Myles, Jill
“One way to find out,” Callum said, and moved to her small fireplace. He built a small fire as she watched, and then dipped the wick of the candle into the flame.
Nothing. It didn’t light. It didn’t even flicker.
“Well, something about it is enchanted,” Callum said thoughtfully.
“Maybe we did it wrong,” Hope said. “We should go back to the witch and see if there’s something we have to do to trigger it.”
“We can go back to see her tomorrow,” Callum said, taking the candle from her hands and setting it down atop the fireplace mantle. His hands slid around her waist. “For now, I want you to say ye’ll marry me, Hope.”
She stared up at him thoughtfully. “Did you mean what you said about falling in love?”
“It’s a bit early for things yet,” he said with a grin, “but I think I could be there very soon, aye.”
“I think I could too,” she confessed softly, and reached up to rub her fingers over the unshaven stubble on his cheek. “But I can’t live a life trapped.”
“We’ll see the witch tonight,” he promised her. “Until then, we’ll simply have to wait until the daylight is gone.”
She licked her lips and gave him a sultry look under her lashes. “However shall we pass the time?”
“I can think of a few things,” he said, pulling her against him so she could feel the hard press of his cock against her belly.
“But first,” she said, grabbing her overlong, bizarre hair that spilled on the ground. “Can you…can you cut this for me?”
Callum cupped her cheek and tilted her face back to look up at him. “I’ve been thinking about you in my arms, all night.”
“Me too.”
“And you between my legs, writhing under me. In my bed. As my wife. I want all these things.” Her breathing was shallow with excitement. “I want those things too, Callum.” His gaze was serious as he studied her upturned face. “Do ye truly, lass? Or do ye regret the moments you spent in my arms instead of the prince’s? Ye could have had riches with him. An easy life.” Hope shook her head.
“I’ve spent the past week trying to figure out how to turn him down nicely. Ever since I met you, you’re the only one I’ve wanted.”
Callum’s gaze hardened. “Ye turned down the prince for a poor laird.” His thumb skated over her lower lip. “This is madness.”
She bit the tip of his thumb suggestively. “Then let’s be crazy together.” His hand moved to her hair, tangling in the thick, ridiculous length of it.
It was so heavy that it weighed on her head, dragging her down. “If we’re to do this, we must have trust.
Do ye trust me?”
She nodded, breathless. Where was this going?
Rough fingers went under her chin again, tilting her head back once more. “Do ye trust me to touch you? To give ye pleasure? To make your body weep with need?” Her nipples pricked against the front of her dress. God, she wanted him so badly. “Of course I trust you.
You’re the only one I trust, Callum.”
His hand dragged through her long, silky hair, and then he pinned both of her wrists together, and wrapped the length of hair around them, tying them together in front of her. His eyes gleamed. “Still trust me?”
“Are you going to tie me up with my own hair?” That was…naughty. Wickedly, deliciously naughty.
“Not if you tell me not to.”
“And if you tie me up,” she whispered huskily, staring down at her bound hands. “What will you do to me?”
He leaned in and kissed her mouth, grazing her upper lip. “Whatever I want,” he whispered against her skin. “However I want.”
A hot shiver of need pulsed through her. “And you want to tangle me in my own hair?” His tongue licked along her upper lip, darting through the seam of her mouth. “Ye’d look lovely dressed in naught but it, lass.”
Desire flared through her body again, and she felt her pussy grow wet. Her hand slid to the front of his plaid. His cock was hard and thick already, and she felt him through the fabric. She rubbed her hand along the delicious length of him. “Does this mean that you’ll do the same? I want you naked, too.” He grinned. “So forward, lass. I love that about you.”
She gave him a naughty smile and continued to rub his length. She rather liked this side of her, too.
Who knew that if she was feeling healthy and alive that she’d be so darn…randy? But she was.
She’d thought about having sex with him again all day, and now that he was here, she could barely keep her hands off of him. “I think perhaps I’m obsessed with touching you.”
“I think perhaps you’re correct.” His hand went to the neckline of her gown and he brushed his fingers over her exposed skin. “But you’re still not undressing for me, lass.” She raised her tied hands and gave him a meaningful look.
He laughed and unbound her hands. “Make it quick.”
Hope grinned and shimmied out of her dress, dragging her fingers through the laces to discard the garment as quickly as possible. After the dress, she tossed her chemise and then stood in front of him, her breathing shallow with excitement. She had no panties–for some reason, they didn’t seem to be big on panties in medieval Scotland. Not that she cared. It was one less garment to strip off.
Now naked, she clasped her hands back together and presented them to him once more. “Ready.”
He rebound her hands, then leaned in and kissed her, running his hands all over her body. “Lovely, sweet creature.” He smacked her ass. “On the bed with ye.” She grinned and turned toward it, feeling excitement flare through all her nerve endings. Tugging on her cursed hair, she dragged it onto the bed with her, and it still trailed over the side of the bed and pooled into the wooden floor. It was absurd, all this hair.
He lifted a lock of her hair to his lips, kissing it, and that made her body flush with desire all over again.
Strange how such a small move could be so very erotic. He grabbed a handful and grinned down at her.
“Have ye ever been trapped in your own hair, lass?”
That sounded terribly kinky. And fun. She shook her head, biting her lip as she glanced up at him.
“And are you going to trap me in it and have your wicked, wicked way with me?” She ran a toe up his leg, lifting the edge of his plaid suggestively.
“Saucy wench,” he said with a grin. “I should spank you for that.” Hope gave him a mock-defiant look.
“Teasing me, are you?”
“Maybe just a little.”
He ran his fingers through her long hair. “And ye like being a tease, don’t you?”
“Maybe just a little,” she repeated, more breathlessly this time. Her own excitement was getting to her.
That, combined with his kiss against her neck, and she was at a fever-pitch already. Her body ached with sheer anticipation. He’d barely touched her and she was wild for wanting him.
He took the long strands of her hair and gathered them in his hand. Then he slowly wrapped them around her clasped hands, over and over again, until she was bound with her own hair. He kissed her neck again. “Are ye ready to let me have my wicked way with you, then?”
“Maybe,” she breathed, excited.
“Only maybe?” Callum arched an eyebrow at her. “I think perhaps you need a little more coaxing, my lovely.”
Her nipples ached, tight and erect. She wanted to rub them against him, but she couldn’t sit up. Her hands were tied, portions of her hair curving around her breasts like a coccoon. “What did you have in mind?”
He took another long handful of hair and tested the length, pulling it to the far edge of the bed. Her hair was easily three times her own height, all thick and strong and shining. And he took it and lifted one of her ankles, studying her reaction.
She held her breath, waiting.
Callum lifted her ankle to the wooden post at the corner of her short, small bed and slowly, carefully wound her long hair around it, tying it loosely to the
post.
A full-body tremble swept over her as he grasped her free ankle and looked over at her, watching her reaction. Would she let him do this? Or would she stop him?
Of course she wanted to do it. Life was now an adventure, and she wanted to experience everything it had to offer–especially if it meant experiencing it with Callum.
She grinned and stretched her other leg out to the far end of the bed, toward the other post on the opposite side. The insides of her thighs burned with the stretch, and she couldn’t quite reach.
Luckily, her hair was long enough that he was able to wrap it and give her enough length to tie her other foot down. Now she lay spread on the bed before him, her legs extended wide and pinned down, her hands bound together by her hair.
And she was shivering with anticipation and need.
Hope licked her lips, staring up at him with hunger. “Now that you have me, what will you do with me?” Callum studied her for a long moment, his heated gaze caressing her naked, exposed body.
“First, I thought I would touch ye. Touch ye everywhere.” He stroked a hand down the inside of one thigh and she shivered in anticipation. His fingers lightly danced across her skin, brushing close to her pussy but then skimming away once more. It was a caress meant to tease and entice, and it made her entire body quiver.
Over and over, he stroked her skin. He let his hands glide over every inch of her spread legs, ticklingly light over the backs of her knees, his full palm grazing over her bound ankle. She felt like a cat being stroked and petted into complacency, and she had to admit, she liked it. He could touch her for hours and she would never grow bored. Each brush of his fingers sent a new wave of pleasure through her body.
He stepped forward and grasped her bound hands, then tugged them over her head so her arms were raised high. It caused her breasts to stand alert, and her already hard nipples pointed at the ceiling.
“I like it when you touch me,” she said softly as he ran an exploratory finger along the length of her side.
“It feels so good to have your hands on me.”
“Ye like my hands, then? They’re not too rough for this delicate skin?” Callum leaned forward and cupped both of her breasts at once.
She moaned with pleasure. The rough calluses on his hands brushing against her nipples drove her wild.
Her hips rose desperately, uselessly.
Her eyes closed with the delicious sensations as he lightly brushed his fingertips over her nipples, coaxing the peaks into even more stiffness.
Hope could feel his cock heavy against the cradle of her sex, and she suddenly wanted him deep inside her.
With a deliberate flex of her hips, she bucked up against him, rubbing against his cock even as he circled her breasts with his fingers, playing with and teasing the two mounds. When he leaned in and gave one breast a light kiss, she sighed. “You’re a tease.”
“A tease?” Without lifting his head, he bit down on the nipple.
She gasped at the intense bolt of pleasure mixed with a shiver of pain. That had been intense. Mind-blowing. She wanted him to do it again.
“Huge tease,” she agreed, writhing on the bed and trying to push her breast into his mouth for more torture. “You’re a cruel man to torment me so.”
“Ah, lass,” he said softly, standing erect again. His hand skimmed over her inner thigh and she watched his hand go down to his cock, guiding it against the slick heat of her pussy. “If I was a cruel man, I’d do this to ye.” And he very deliberately, very slowly stroked the head of his cock up and down her hot, wet folds, grazing over her clit and then moving downward to push ever so slightly at the opening of her core…only to drag away again.
She whimpered in distress.
“Was that cruel of me, Hope, love?” Callum repeated the motion, gliding the thick head of his cock through the damp folds of her sex again.
“Or do ye like my cruelty just a bit?” His hand caressed her thigh. “Ye’re raising yer hips to my every touch.”
“I want you deep inside me,” she breathed. “No more torture.” He shook his head, pushing the head of his cock against her clit again. “Perhaps I like hearing those sweet moans as I drive you wild.”
She bit her lip, determined to hold those moans in. Perhaps if she was silent, he might stop teasing her and give her what she wanted. She tossed him a deliberate look.
Callum gave her a slow, wicked smile. “Now, lass, that looks like a challenge to me.” And he dropped to his knees between her legs. His hands dug into her buttocks and she felt him bury his face between her legs, nuzzling her pussy.
Hope cried out, forgetting all about her silent vow to hold in her response.
“That’s more like it, sweet lass,” he said softly, and his pointed tongue stroked out to circle her clit.
Her pussy felt impossibly slick, quivers trembling through her body as he lapped and sucked at her flesh. His movements were slow, precise and deliberate–ready to take his time and spend all night between her legs if need be.
She cried his name out again. Her orgasm was building–so very close that every stroke of his tongue made her tremble against his mouth.
And then she was coming in waves, all the breath escaping her lungs, her legs shivering in their bonds, even as he continued to stroke and lick at her with his wonderful, torturous mouth.
Callum rose, abandoning her pussy for a brief moment before she felt the thick crown of his cock nudge against her entrance again, and then he began to push in slowly.
Her muscles tightened around him, sucking him deeper.
“Ah, Hope,” he said, his voice strained. “Thought I’d imagined how good it was to seat myself inside ye.” And he stroked deep.
It felt so good, so sharp with intense pleasure that she stiffened in response. He thrust again, and she felt the undeniable urge to move with him, lift her hips in rhythm with his strokes. The loose bonds of her hair were just enough to prevent her from moving much, but it didn’t matter. She was coming all over again, her pussy constantly clenching around him as he thrust into her with quick, jerky strokes that told her he wasn’t going to last long at all.
And when she quivered with the new orgasm, wetness slicking her thighs, he came with a shout of her name and a rough thrust that made her see stars.
It took a few minutes for her breath to calm, and she felt gloriously, outrageously sated. Long strands of hair danced over her vision, and
Callum collapsed at her side, his heavy weight pulling on a few of the loose curls.
“That was wonderful,” she said breathlessly.
“Ye’re marrying me,” he said deliberately. “I won’t rest until you belong to me.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, “After we get answers from the witch.” She would marry him, she decided. Hope raised her bound hands. “We should probably untie me first.” He rolled onto his side and propped his head up with an elbow. His other hand skated over the curve of her belly and rested on her breast, teasing the nipple. “Why should I untie you? Tis hours until nightfall, and I’ve a great many things in mind to do to you.”
Heat curled in her belly and she smiled up at him.
***
They made love slow and sweet, and fast and furious. They’d napped in between bouts of lovemaking, but Callum had proven to be tireless when it came to giving her pleasure, and even more tireless when it came to being ready for the next round.
Hope was more than ready for anything he was willing to dish out. Even when her body glistened with sweat, her long hair damp, she reveled in it and the feel of his skin against her own. This was what it meant to truly live, and she loved every glorious moment of it, soaking up the pleasure of the day.
Nightfall eventually arrived, and they dressed again, ate a quick meal, and then descended down the tower to visit the witch again.
“What if she doesn’t have an answer?” Hope asked with worry as she mounted behind Callum. “Are there other witches we can approach?”
“
I don’t know of any,” he said thoughtfully. “But if it takes a year to solve yer curse, we will.” She shuddered at the thought. A year without sunlight? Another year of imprisonment? Not that she could stay that long–Muffin had said she only had a month.
Hope didn’t point this out to Callum, though. She said nothing, only clung to Callum’s back and laid her cheek against his shoulder.
Like it or not, she’d fallen for the big Scotsman and she didn’t want to leave him.
Not when life was so wonderful.
They rode through the darkness back to the small village, and then on to the witch’s house. This time, however, Hope saw the plume of smoke rising from the chimney.
“She’s home,” Hope said with excitement. “This is good. Now we can get a candle that works.” They dismounted and approached the door, tying Callum’s horse a short distance away. They approached quietly. Hope studied the door for a moment, wondering if she should knock. Would the witch be expecting them like last time, though? Or would she just sell them more shenanigans?
Her belly felt hot, and Hope scratched at it absently.
She smelled the scent of burning wool at about the same time as the hot wax dripped on her fingers, blistering the skin.
Hope hissed, jerking at the smoldering clothing against her stomach. The candle dropped to the ground, the flame flickering in the grass.
She stared at it with wide eyes even as Callum moved to stomp on the candle. “It lit up. Did you see that?”
“See it?” He stomped on the candle again. The flame refused to go out. “I can’t get rid of it.” The candle would only light in the presence of the one who cursed her? Hope pressed her ear to the door, frowning. Was that…was that a radio playing show tunes?
She shoved at the door, spilling inside. Immediately, the door slammed behind her.
Callum pounded on it from the other side. “Hope! Hope! Are ye all right?” She tugged at the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “I’m okay, but I’m trapped in here.” She turned and stared at her surroundings, her mouth dry with fear.
The hut itself looked like the inspiration of every wicked witch in a fairy tale. Dried frogs and other gross things hung from the ceiling, and the fireplace was smoky and dim.